


The Stag, the Sun, and the Sailor

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Arranged Marriage, M/M, Mpreg, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:40:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22247251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: Stannis is certain he will be miserable in his marriage to Oberyn Martell, especially when it means he must abandon the pregnant Davos. Perhaps Stannis is wrong.
Relationships: Stannis Baratheon/Davos Seaworth/Oberyn Martell
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64
Collections: Holly Poly 2019





	The Stag, the Sun, and the Sailor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greygerbil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/gifts).



Davos found Stannis hunched over his desk, reading through a sheaf of parchment. He hung back in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt. This would require Stannis' full attention, but he did not want to spring this news on him when he was in a foul mood due to something he had read. 

Stannis raised his head. "Do you need something, Davos?" 

Davos froze, his hand on his middle. He had spent the entire walk back from the healer he had visited in the Street of Silk rehearsing what he would say to Stannis. Now every word he had decided on left his head. 

"I went to a healer," he said. 

"Are you well? I had noticed you were, er, ill. You could have gone to Grand Maester Pycelle." 

Davos had considered it, but immediately rejected it. The last thing he needed was the queen's creature knowing what he'd just discovered about himself. "No. I could not do that. But at least now I know why I have been ill."

Stannis turned in his seat. "Davos, what—" 

"I am with child." He cringed as he said it, aware of the position he was putting Stannis in. Stannis, who had always disdained his brother's habit of leaving bastards wherever he went, would now be bound to either wed Davos or live with the shame of him. 

Stannis stared at him for a moment, seeming not to have grasped the meaning of his words. Then, his face broke into a smile. He rose, taking Davos' hands in both of his. "Davos, that is wonderful." 

Davos' heart was racing. "It is?"

"If you wish it to be." Stannis cupped his cheek. "Davos, I—I was going to ask my brother for permission to marry you. I had not told you because… because I wanted to propose properly." Stannis blushed, consternated, and Davos felt his heart swell with affection. A shame to have missed what Stannis considered a proper proposal of marriage. "Now I will just have to do it with all due speed." Davos knew Stannis was not one for sentimentality, nor was he someone who said things he did not mean. 

"Are you sure?" he could not help asking. 

"I am absolutely sure. I was already going to do it." Stannis' thumb brushed across Davos' beard. "Now you are carrying my child—Davos, if you want to keep it, I would have it as my heir. I want you to bear me a legitimate child, as many as you wish to."

This was enough for Davos. Only now did he recognize how much anxiety he'd been harboring. He kissed Stannis greedily, sliding his fingers into Stannis' short hair, feeling him shiver against him.

"When are you going to talk to your brother?" He tried not to be overly eager, but he could not help the way his body responded to Stannis' nearness. 

"Later," Stannis said firmly and nudged them toward the bedroom. 

**

Davos had fallen asleep not long after they had finished their lovemaking, and Stannis spent several pleasant moments with him tucked into his side. Now that he studied him, he could see the ever so slight swelling of his belly. With child. Davos was with child. He was going to bear Stannis' child, if all went well. And they would soon be married and the child would be legitimate, with hopefully more to follow. 

Stannis had not known Davos could bear a child, though he'd known that gift was in his own blood. His grandfather on his father's side had had two fathers. Davos had often told him he knew little of his own family, having been orphaned young so by his own admission, anything was possible. 

_We will have a family_ , he vowed. 

He slipped reluctantly from the bed where his lover lay and dressed. _I am a fool_ , he thought. _He makes me a fool._ There was only one way to ensure that his plan was successful—convince Robert that they should be wed, and soon. 

He found his brother with Jon Arryn. This took him by surprise. His brother's Hand must have returned from Dorne just that day.

Stannis bowed. "How went your talks with Prince Doran, my lord?" 

Arryn did not seem surprised Stannis greeted him with no pleasantries. He had obviously come right from the docks to see the king and in that regard, they were not dissimilar. The business of the realm took precedence, even over Davos. 

"It is fitting you should be here, my lord," Arryn said. "We had much talk concerning you."

That made Stannis pause. "Concerning me?" 

"Yes." Arryn motioned to his squire who withdrew a sheet of parchment from the bags he carried. "A marriage contract. Negotiations were tense; the Dornish have good reason to hate us and little good reason to love us. This was the only way both the prince and I could see forward. You will wed Prince Oberyn." 

Stannis took the parchment from him woodenly. It was signed by Jon Arryn and Prince Doran and stamped with the king's seal. What right did he have to sign a marriage contract for Stannis? He was a man grown and a lord in his own right, even if it was only of Dragonstone. 

"I cannot wed Prince Oberyn. I have promised myself to Ser Davos." 

"That hardly signifies," Robert said dismissively. "Even he knows he isn't worth half as much as a Prince of Dorne." 

"He is worth everything to me," Stannis bit out. He could not believe this was happening. It was a nightmare. He would awaken in Davos' arms and tell him of his queer dream. 

"And you must know how little that matters in marriage negotiations," Arryn admonished. "I know you are far from selfish—" 

"I have given him _my word_." Why could they not understand how important this was? 

"Without my permission, I might add," said Robert.

Stannis flushed. He would have to reveal their secret. "He is with child," he said quickly and quietly. 

Robert laughed derisively. "That is hardly a reason." 

"Perhaps not for you," Stannis shot back. "But I do not intend to father a bastard." 

"My lord." Jon Arryn's voice was stern and Stannis almost felt chastened, though he had no actual authority over him. "I know you value your brother's rule and the peace of the kingdom above all else. If you refuse to wed Prince Oberyn, there will surely be war with Dorne. This marriage contract was a hard-won fight after months of negotiation." 

Stannis' hands were fisted at his sides with rage. He could not deny the truth of Lord Arryn's words. He knew what his duty was. Never before had he been so caught between his duty and his own desires. He closed his eyes. 

"No one need know," Robert said. "Settle a sum on him and send him away. They all have a price that will keep them away."

Stannis turned, to keep himself from striking his brother. That would cause more problems than it would solve. He knew he had no choice here. No matter that it was not fair. No matter that he wanted nothing more than to wed Davos, even if they had to flee across the Narrow Sea to be together, which was a foolish idea. 

"Very well," he said. "I will wed Prince Oberyn." 

"There," Robert said. "No one said you had to like it." 

Stannis said nothing more but ground his teeth as he took his leave. 

**

Davos was so unused to unconditional happiness that he ought to have been unsurprised that Stannis returned from talking to his brother with such a grim expression on his face

"Stannis, what is wrong?" Davos was about to rise from the couch, but Stannis was kneeling at his feet in an instant, reaching out to take both of his hands in his. 

"We cannot get married. I am so sorry, Davos." His face was more stricken than Davos had ever seen it; for a man who did not show his feelings often, Davos could tell that this was bad. 

"That's all right," Davos said quickly. "I don't—" 

"They have betrothed me to Oberyn Martell." 

Davos felt the bile rise in his throat. No. He had thought perhaps that Robert would not let Stannis marry someone born so low as Davos, but not that he had a replacement candidate at the ready. What he was mainly surprised by was his own reaction. It seemed that the walls were closing in around him. Why was he reacting this way at the thought of another marrying Stannis? 

"I'm sorry," Stannis mumbled again. "Davos, I—I—I—" 

Davos' stomach lurched, though he had only been sick in the mornings. 

He was hardly conscious of Stannis sitting next to him on the couch and drawing him into his arms. Why was Stannis' shoulder damp? Davos pressed his face against it as it grew damper still.

"Shh," Stannis murmured, stroking his hair. He had not known how comforting Stannis could be; usually it was Davos soothing Stannis through some injustice. "I will still take care of you and the babe."

"It will be a bastard."

"That matters naught." 

"And you will be married." 

Stannis sighed, a heavy exhalation of defeat. "Yes. I will." His arms tightened around Davos. "But that does not change how I feel about you." 

Davos let out a deep, shuddering sigh. "I know, Stannis. But you must forget me." 

"Absolutely not." Stannis pulled back, expression determined. "That was what _Robert_ told me I must do, so I will certainly not do _that_."

Davos nearly laughed; it was so absurd. "I appreciate that, Stannis. But you must do nothing to compromise your new marriage." 

"We will figure something out," Stannis said. He gathered Davos' hair and tucked it behind his shoulder. "You must concentrate on your own health and the babe. That is what I want do you." He kissed his forehead. "Let me think."

Davos did not know that there was anything to be done about it, but he allowed Stannis to draw him into his arms. He would at least savor all the Stannis he could get for as much time as he could have him. 

**

Oberyn Martell's first glimpse of his husband-to-be confirmed his suspicions. He had heard Stannis Baratheon was a hard man; he had sifted through every story and rumor that had come out of the siege, looking for a grain of information about his husband to be. He knew about the Onion Knight's fingertips, the men almost flung from the walls. He had heard tales of his abstinence, his disapproval of anyone trying to wrest a little fun out of life. Oberyn knew enough of what people outside Dorne said about Oberyn to not completely trust what people in Dorne said about Stannis Baratheon, but after one look he could see where the stories came from.

Stannis did not receive his fiancé with smiles and sweet words. He received him with a scowl and a sharp nod. "My prince." 

Oberyn bowed. One of them had to and Stannis showed no inclination of being the one to do it. He reached for his betrothed's hand and kissed it. Stannis made every appearance of having to resist the urge to flinch.

Oberyn would have his work cut out for him unthawing that. If he even wanted to. Did he even want to show the usurper's brother the pleasures of the bedchamber? Even the idea of making the chaste Lord Stannis beg for his cock did not hold much appeal. 

"It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord," Oberyn said. 

Stannis Baratheon showed no sign of melting under his gaze or his touch. "Neither of us can pretend this is anything but a political farce. It is not a pleasure for you to meet me any more than it is for me to meet you." 

"We may make the most of it." 

"Perhaps." There was no glimmer of interest in those hard blue eyes. Very well. 

"Will you take my arm, or will I take yours?" 

Stannis seemed to take a moment of calculation. There was a muscle going in his jaw that Oberyn found himself staring at. "You may take my arm. I am taller." 

Oberyn did as instructed. So this is what it was like to be around Lord Stannis, with no decisions made from sentiment. It was not precisely that he _cared_. But it seemed that Stannis would be uniquely frustrating. 

Stannis said nothing to him as they passed through into the feast. Oberyn greeted the usurper tersely; he certainly did not care if his goodbrother-to-be liked him, and he gathered the feeling was mutual. Stannis seemed to be ignoring Robert, as well, and Oberyn followed his gaze to the low tables. 

"Who is that who draws your gaze, my sweet betrothed?" 

Stannis twitched, accomplishing Oberyn's objective. "No one." 

"Then may at least ask the name of that fellow?"

Stannis' cheeks went scarlet. "That is Ser Davos Seaworth." 

"Ah. The famous Onion Knight." He watched Stannis' expression closely. "He is handsome." 

"He is my most loyal man," Stannis said, and though the words were not sweet, it did not escape Oberyn's attention the way his gaze softened as he continued to look at the loyal man and not the one who would be his husband in less than a week's time. 

**

Stannis participated in each necessary part of the wedding preparations. He greeted his fiancé cordially and even spoke to him more than was strictly necessary to complete the marriage contract. He allowed himself to be measured for clothes, primped, and prodded. 

And he spent every spare second with Davos. 

"You should get to know Prince Oberyn," Davos told him, as they sat on the balcony outside Stannis' rooms. He didn't seem to mean it too strongly, Stannis noted, which perhaps had something to do with the fact that Stannis was rubbing his feet. 

"I will have plenty of time to get to know him," Stannis spat. "I already know enough about him. We will never get along well, and we will have our whole lives trapped together."

"You can hardly say that. You barely know him."

Stannis grunted. "I had already met the man I would spend my life with before I ever saw the Dornishman ." 

Davos sighed. "I know, Stannis." He reached out fondly and run his fingers through Stannis' hair. Stannis shivered and stayed absolutely still, loving the feeling of Davos' fingers sliding through the strands, the shortened tips brushing his scalp. "But you must try. Promise me you will try." 

"What will our child think? To grow up seeing its sire abandon—" 

"Our child will grow up knowing its sire did as duty required." 

Ordinarily, that would have been high praise for Stannis. Now it sounded hollow. 

"Come with us," he said quickly. "Martell says we must go to Dorne after the wedding. I want you with me, if you feel well enough to travel."

Davos leaned back in his chair. He was just far enough along that his pregnancy was obvious to anyone who saw him, and he hadn't been ill in some weeks. 

"You can still provide me counsel," Stannis went on. "Even if I am wed. And who will rub your feet?"

Davos shook his head, but he was smiling fondly. "You must rub your husband's feet." 

Stannis gave him a withering look. "I should hope he will never ask me."

"You will have to have children with him. Which of you will carry them?" 

"Whichever of us can." He had not given it much thought, but he supposed it would have to be undertaken. The prospect of it was not nearly as sweet as the one of imagining the child Davos was carrying. 

"Tomorrow," Davos said softly, continuing to pet his hair. "You must go to your marriage bed with an open heart, Stannis." 

Stannis seized Davos' hand and kissed the palm. "I love you."

They said no more, simply remaining near each other as the sky darkened on Stannis' last night as an unmarried man.

**

Being a guest at the wedding of one's lover was not as awkward as Davos had feared. He sat at the back of the sept and spoke to no one. He supposed Stannis' famed frigidity had made people disinclined to believe Davos might be carrying his child. He had heard no rumors, so thankfully, they could not follow him to Dorne. 

He tried to concentrate on the ceremony, but it was difficult to watch Stannis marry someone else, even if he clearly didn't want to be there. A few times, their eyes met, but Davos always tried to pull his gaze away. He wanted Stannis to at least have a chance with his husband. 

At the feast, it was easier to concentrate on food and ignore the handsome couple at the high table. As his morning sickness had faded, he had become ravenously hungry and justified himself as eating for two if anyone looked at his plate askance. 

It also allowed him to pretend Stannis and Oberyn weren't there, so he would not have to look at them kiss, which they seemed to be doing at the behest of the Dornish contingent periodically cheering. Davos had not the stomach to look. 

When a member of the prince's party shouted a suggestion as to how best to use his spear, Davos quietly left the great hall. The bedding was one indignity he did not wish to be present for.

**

"You might relax a bit. I would not want to see you break your brother's silver." 

Stannis glowered at his new husband. "I am not going to break the silver." He jammed his fork into his slice of pie and took a bite. There was nothing wrong with holding it firmly.

Oberyn laid his hand on Stannis' arm. "They expect us to show each other some measure of affection." 

So that what those people kept chanting about. 

"We kissed at the ceremony." 

Stannis had allowed Oberyn to kiss his cheek after he'd pinned the sun cloak about his shoulders. It had been agreed by both parties that they would exchange cloaks; the Martells had refused to merely take the Baratheon cloak, as Stannis had refused to only take Oberyn's. 

_This marriage may keep the peace, but it will be anything but peaceful._

"Kiss me," Oberyn said. "It need only be on the cheek." 

Stannis searched the crowd scattered among the low tables but could not find Davos. Lightning fast, he leaned in and pressed a dry, chaste kiss to Oberyn's cheek. 

Oberyn smiled as cheers and applause broke out. He settled his arm around Stannis' shoulders. Stannis shivered, then became furious with himself. He would not shiver over this man. They were bound by duty to be wed and it had been done.

He went to remove Oberyn's arm when someone shouted, "When are you going to spear the stag, my prince?" 

Oberyn laughed. "When the stag is ready is to take me." His fingers brushed Stannis' cheek and to his shame, he shivered again. 

"Do you want to go now or delay it further?" Oberyn murmured. To their audience, it surely looked like he was kissing Stannis' neck; indeed, his breath was uncomfortably hot on it, making the small hairs on the back of his neck raise up. Stannis fought the urge to draw back again. 

"Let us go now so that we may be done with it." He rose, and the musicians scrambled to begin the bedding music.

Oberyn kissed his hand. "Until we meet again upstairs, my lord." 

He was soon swallowed up by a crowd and Stannis could hear his husband's laughter as he was stripped. The walls seemed to close in as those who had been appointed to prepare Stannis advanced on him. _I will stand my ground_ , he thought. _If I made it through the siege, I can make it through a bedding._

While it was a party of stormlanders who were busy stripping Oberyn, the people attending to Stannis were Dornish and he knew none of them. Hands squeezed at his arms and chest and he jerked his way out of their grasp. 

"Lord Stannis is liable to freeze the Viper's spear off," someone said. 

Stannis clenched his fist. "Unhand me." 

Someone laughed in his ear. "That is hardly the point of a bedding, my lord." She began to unlace his doublet. Stannis tried to fight the urge to fleet right from the hall. Robert was watching and no doubt laughing; he certainly wouldn't be among the party undressing Oberyn. Stannis' humiliation would be entertainment enough. 

He could not see who seized him from behind and pulled his cloak off. The swarm carried him along, up stairs and down corridors, stripping him as they went. Somewhere, Stannis lost his doublet and his shirt. 

"His muscles are a sight to behold," murmured a voice in his ear. "A pity to hide them under all these layers." 

"Who would have known you were as fine as Robert under there?" 

Stannis winced as a hand grabbed his bicep. He did not appreciate being compared to Robert and wrenched himself out of their grasp. That was when he was tackled from behind and they went for his trousers.

**

When the crowd cleared, leaving them alone in their bedchamber, Oberyn found himself presented a naked, red-faced husband.

He crossed his arms over his chest. Stannis appeared to be trying to conceal himself with one hand, but he was doing a poor job of it. What he was concealing was rather difficult to hide, and Oberyn couldn't help looking at it. 

"Are you all right?" Normally, he would have enjoyed seeing a Baratheon brought so low, but Stannis looked genuinely miserable. 

Stannis said nothing for a moment, then turned to face him, hands fisted at his side. Oberyn admired his cock, tried to imagine taking it in his hands. _That would be fine in my mouth, my arse._ If he was going to have to be married to Stannis Baratheon there might be some things to enjoy about it. 

If his new husband would lie with him. 

Stannis was currently glowering at him, which made quite the contrast to his nakedness.

"We must get on with it, mustn't we?" he asked. 

"I will not force you," Oberyn told him. "We are in the same position, one might say. Both sold by our brothers to force a peace." 

Stannis seemed to relax; apparently being able to bemoan his situation put him at ease. "Yes. This is the thanks I get for serving my brother so faithfully."

"Aye." Oberyn crossed the room to pour himself a goblet of wine. He needed it. When he offered, Stannis declined. "The faithful brother, always doing his bidding."

"Is that not what you are? You agreed to wed me."

"Yes." Oberyn sipped slowly. "We both had no other choice. We have seen what war does." His gaze rested on Stannis' ribs. Months later and they were still protruding slightly. _He must have been skin and bones when the siege was lifted._ Despite himself, he felt a bit of resentment melt away. Stannis had naught to do with the deaths of Elia and her children. "Are you quite well now?" 

Stannis' blush deepened, along with his scowl. "Well enough. I would have starved before I yielded." 

"So I see."

"I did not counsel him to rise up against the king. Aerys was my liege as much as he was Robert's, and we were kin. Our father had been fond of him." Stannis paused. "I might have been for Rhaegar; my Targaryen blood was enough, but the king did not want to risk the possibility that one of us not bear children." 

Oberyn nodded. He knew as well as Stannis that this obsessed those among the highborn who might make matches between two men or two women. It could never be proven unless a marriage was consummated. 

"Would that you might have been wed to him," he said, draining his goblet. "My sister might be alive."

"Many people might be alive," Stannis muttered. "But they are not and now we are wed. We must get on with it." 

"My husband is very romantic." Oberyn set his goblet down. 

It was somewhat satisfying to watch Stannis seethe. "We must do it. We must get on with making an heir. I know I—" He cleared his throat. "You have sired children." 

"Yes."

"Then you might as well fuck me and we will see what happens." 

Oberyn winced. He had thought getting Stannis into bed might be a challenging seduction. Instead it appeared that getting him to care would be the challenge. 

"Very well." If Stannis was going to make their first night together transactional, that would be how they would go about it. "Let me kiss you." 

"If you will." Stannis made no movement, forcing Oberyn to step forward to kiss him. Stannis' lips were firm and unyielding. It was like kissing stone. 

"Make a little effort," Oberyn said. Stannis relaxed imperceptibly. How could anyone actually hold himself this stiffly? He slid his hand down Stannis' back. "Let's move to the bed," he said. 

He might be able to work with this on the bed. 

**

The first week of his marriage was much the same as the wedding night. He and Oberyn faithfully fucked nightly, but he spent as much of his days with Davos as he reasonably could, though Davos would only consent to such innocences as arms-length walks in the garden. 

Stannis found himself actually looking forward to going to Dorne. It would be a change of scenery and would be somewhere he had never been. It would also be better for Davos, he concluded, to get him out of the stinking capital in his state.

The sea air calmed him when he could not breathe in King's Landing. He was glad Sunspear was at least on the sea. He did not know that he could have lived anywhere that was landlocked; he felt trapped enough in King's Landing which was constricting enough that the sea felt leagues away. 

On the open ocean, however, his anxieties seemed to melt away, though his concern about Davos lingered. He certainly still did not like the idea of spending his life with someone other than the man he loved. 

Thus, he devoted himself to doing all he could for Davos, even though they could not be together. Davos was still carrying his child, and still rated Stannis' attentions. He rationalized this by telling himself that if Davos were pregnant with another's child, he would still be bringing him the pickles he craved. 

"Thank you," Davos said, sitting up straight in his bunk as Stannis let himself into his cabin. Stannis had arranged for Davos to get the other private cabin on the ship, though it meant he had to share his with Oberyn, forcing them to sleep together even after they had completed the necessary process. 

"I would do anything for you." 

Davos flushed. "You should not say things like that, Stannis, you are a married man."

"You are my most loyal retainer. That is why I say things like this." He stood at attention at Davos' bedside, waiting for his next order. 

Davos smiled fondly. "You are dismissed, Stannis. Thank you for the pickles." He seemed quite content to sit abed and eat them. Stannis felt rather extraneous. He bowed, thinking this important, then turned and headed for the deck. 

The sun and salt air, the wind in his hair, all combined to soothe his nerves. He understood why Davos rejected him, but it was rather lonely to be sent away by one's lover and be unable to tolerate one's husband. 

He sucked in a deep breath. He and Oberyn had lain together every night since their wedding night, switching position, which Stannis had decreed the most logical way to get an heir as soon as possible. If one of them fell pregnant, they could cease such activities. 

"Husband." 

Stannis turned, finding himself faced with the person he least wished to see. "Husband." 

Oberyn laughed mirthlessly. "You might call me my name and extend me the same courtesy. To call each other the same thing grows tedious."

Stannis snorted, but he could lodge no objection. "Very well. Prince Oberyn." 

"Just Oberyn. Unless you wish for me to call you Prince Stannis." 

"Prince? I am not—" 

"By wedding me, you are a prince of Dorne, even if your brother did not see fit to make you a prince of the Iron Throne." Oberyn's lips curved into a small smile. "I would have thought you would have liked to be so honored."

Stannis bit his lip. "You are right. If it is my due, I will take the title." 

"Is Ser Davos well?" 

Stannis turned, startled, but his husband's expression was unreadable. _Those eyes. I will never know what goes on behind those eyes._ Many times he had not been sure if Oberyn was mocking him; now was one of those times. Did Oberyn know that Davos carried Stannis' child? Was he offended? 

_He cannot be offended if he has fathered so many bastards himself_ , he thought, though Stannis knew it was possible Prince Doran would object to Davos' being brought to Sunspear. Which was exactly why it was crucial that no one know he carried Stannis' child. 

"Yes," he said. "He merely finds himself indisposed. He is my best and most loyal retainer, and thus I saw to his comfort."

"You are a good liege. I can only hope you will do the same for me if I become pregnant." 

"Of course I will." Stannis was surprised he had asked. "If I get you with child, I will look after you." He remembered what Davos had said about rubbing his husband's feet. "You will be carrying my heir." He paused. "Would you not do the same for me?"

Oberyn looked genuinely taken aback. "If you wish it. I would not have thought you would want that sort of thing."

"Our children will be heirs to two great, ancient legacies. Whoever carries them must have no distress." 

"And you feel the same about Ser Davos' bastard?" 

Stannis felt his face redden. "I do. I told you. He is important to me."

"I might have thought with your famous regard for propriety you would have dismissed him for falling pregnant. Who is the sire, I wonder?" 

"That is none of your business," Stannis muttered.

Oberyn nodded. "That is fair. I have not disclosed the names of the mothers of my children if they did not wish it." 

Stannis looked cautiously at him. "How many bastards do you have?" 

"Four."

"That you are aware of."

Oberyn's eyes narrowed. "Four. I am not your brother. Remember that." 

Stannis was about to ask him how he could be sure, but refrained. "I will be sure to." 

"You will like Sunspear." The change in topic was so abrupt it nearly sounded like a threat. 

"I will be glad to see it." Stannis decided to make an attempt at diplomacy. That would make Davos happy to think he was trying to engage his husband in conversation. "Besides Dragonstone and King's Landing, I have never left the Stormlands."

Oberyn was silent for a moment, his eyes on the horizon. Stannis thought perhaps he wasn't going to reply. "Would you like to go elsewhere?"

"I am glad to see Dorne." 

"You will see more than Dorne if you wish it. I have traveled half the world and would gladly see all those places again if you would like to see them. You are a sailor, yes?"

"Yes. It is in my blood, but I have not gone farther than Estermont." 

"Then we will see you go farther still."

Oberyn turned and left him then, and Stannis stood for a long time, feeling the wind in his hair and the salt on his tongue.

**

Davos had never been seasick, even as a cabin boy, and he had not been sick from pregnancy in weeks, which was why he was so disgruntled by being so miserable aboard ship now. The pickles had helped. He had craved nothing like them, his mouth watering at the thought of the crunch and the brine. He had very nearly asked Stannis to bring him a cup of the juice from the barrel to drink, but decided that was going too far. 

Now, though, he needed fresh air and felt capable of mounting the stairs to the deck by himself. He could not be too reliant on Stannis. As he was thinking this, his foot missed a run on the ladder and a hand reached out to steady him.

"Allow me."

Davos turned and found himself looking into dark eyes. 

"Thank you, my lord." Davos was able to get his boot back on the ladder and scramble out of is former lover's husband's way. 

"Forgive me for taking the liberty of introducing myself for my husband is not here to formally present us to one another." Oberyn bowed. "I am Prince Oberyn Martell." 

Davos returned the bow, somewhat encumbered by his belly. "Ser Davos Seaworth." 

"Then I am in your debt, for if not for your onions and saltfish, I might not have a husband." 

_You certainly never would have wed him if they had lost the war._ "It was the right thing to do, my lord. I could not let men starve."

"At the price of your fingertips." Oberyn reached for his hand. Davos' first instinct was to pull it back; he did not like that Stannis' husband could now be placed firmly into the category of people who gawked at him. 

"A just price," he said, trying not to sound overly defensive. 

"And you have been amply rewarded. I see Stannis holds you in high regard." Oberyn was still holding Davos' hand; he had not wanted to offend his liege lord's husband by pulling it away. However, it was quite obvious now that he was not gawking. He was holding Davos' hand delicately, almost admiringly. 

"Lord Stannis is a fair man. Do not forget that, my prince. If a man shows him loyalty, that loyalty is returned tenfold."

Oberyn released Davos' hand then, but slowly, lingering on his fingers. "Thank you for the advice, Onion Knight. I will mind it well." 

Davos' hand went to his belly, and he felt another flutter of movement inside him. 

Oberyn moved off. "I do not mean to make you uncomfortable. I merely wanted to talk to you for I know how my husband values your counsel." 

Davos smiled. "I think he might hold it in outsize regard. But I try to help him where I can. And that will extend to you, my lord, now that you are wed." 

"I shall be sure to make use of it." Oberyn settled his hands behind his back. "May I keep you company on deck?" 

Davos blushed. He knew it had nothing to do with _him_ ; Oberyn was highborn with all the same courtesies Stannis had. He probably did not want to leave Davos alone while pregnant. Davos thought it was foolish, but he wasn't going to refuse.

Davos made his way to the railing; he had longed to see the sea. 

"I see why you and Stannis are well matched; you are both sailors." 

Davos glanced up at Oberyn. He had expected a chaperone, not a conversation. 

"I am. I suppose you know that I was a smuggler."

"You will find no objections from me. I have traveled extensively in the east and known many smugglers. It would not surprise me if we had crossed paths before… but I think I would remember you."

"And I would remember you." He allowed himself to glance back up at Oberyn, who was still watching him. He shivered unbidden. He could not think such things about Stannis' husband, even if he was handsome with his dark hair ruffled by the breeze. _Stannis is a lucky man,_ he told himself. _Even if he does not quite realize it._

**

"You are a lucky man," Oberyn told Stannis that night, as they lay together in the dark after having fucked. (He could not call it making love; it was fucking.) 

"How so?"

"You have a lovely retainer in Ser Davos." 

Stannis sat up. "What do you mean?"

Oberyn smiled. "He thinks the world of you. And he is quite handsome; he would not remain long in my service without winding up in my bed." 

Stannis was silent; Oberyn could feel the resentment radiate off of him. "He will not go to bed with you. I know him."

 _Ah, yes_ , Oberyn thought. _That is jealousy. Then he must be responsible for Ser Davos' present condition._

"What makes you say that?" he asked. He sat up so he was on Stannis' level. "I would not think anyone could be totally sure." 

"You are my husband," Stannis snarled. "Have you just declared your intentions to be unfaithful?" 

"We could take him into our bed." Oberyn smiled wickedly. "The little smuggler between us. He could tell which of us fucks him better, me or you." 

Stannis lunged at him, knocking him from their bunk. They grappled on the floor, each landing at least on good punch. It was more satisfying than any sex they'd ever had when Oberyn managed to pin him, pressing his thigh into Stannis' crotch. 

Then, Stannis shoved him off and rose. 

"I am leaving," he said. "You may stay here." He stalked out of the cabin in only his braies, leaving Oberyn lying on the floor, thinking about how casually and easily Stannis had thrown him off. 

**

Stannis let himself into Davos' cabin as quietly as he could, but he had not been asleep.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sitting up. 

Stannis sat on the floor, regretting that he had not dressed. "I cannot stay with him." 

"Why not?" 

"He…" Stannis felt foolish admitting it. "He said things about you."

"Oh, Stannis." Davos slipped from the bed and came over to him, but stopped short of touching him. "Do not worry about me."

"He ought not to say the things he said about you." Stannis' skin seemed to crackle with anger and shame. 

"And you ought not to come to me." He sat back down on the bed. 

"I will sleep down here." Stannis lay on the floor. It was not comfortable, but he didn't need comfort. He needed to be away from his husband. "We will reach Sunspear tomorrow if the winds are good and then I will not need to lie with him any longer, at least not all night."

"I do not want to come between you."

"You are not coming between us," Stannis said firmly. "It is all his fault." 

Davos did not reply to this, so Stannis went to sleep. Or tried to. He found he lay, seething, for much of the night, and even Davos' soft breathing could not calm him.

**

Sunspear was an enormous castle and Davos could barely breathe as he watched it come into view. With luck, he would find a place here where he could finish his pregnancy in relative seclusion.

He glanced at Stannis and Oberyn who stood beside each other. They treated each other the same as they had before, and Davos could not begin to guess if they had reconciled. 

No, he could. He assumed they had not. 

He rested a hand on his belly and sighed. He did not wish to leave Stannis' service, but he would if he had to. Stannis would not be reasonable about it if he went to him. It would have to be Oberyn. 

Davos had not spoken to Stannis' husband since the day he'd kept him company on deck and he now wondered if it was a good idea to seek him out. 

He waited until afternoon. Davos had not been invited to the midday meal with Prince Doran, of course, so he would approach Prince Oberyn when the Dornish court broke up for their afternoon rest. He had spent enough time in Dorne to know of this custom, and he was happy for a servant to lead him to his room. 

It was nicer than he'd expected, but he certainly wasn't going to turn it down, not with a babe on the way. He thanked his escort and crossed to the latticed window, which admitted a breeze from the sea. This would be comfortable. 

_No_ , he reminded himself. _You are leaving._

It did seem a pity, though. The bed was ridiculously comfortable and he sat on it, only meaning to take a moment's rest. His feet were swollen in his boots so he pulled them off. Perhaps he would only rest his eyes.

He found himself walking up to see the sun had shifted and he was hungry. 

And there was someone in his rooms. 

He sat up straight, at first alarmed, until he recognized Prince Oberyn. 

"I'm sorry," Oberyn said, bowing. "I didn't mean to startle you. I thought you might need something to eat since I didn't see you at the meal." 

A covered tray sat on the table. Davos rose, pushing his hair out of his face. It had cooled off substantially but it was still hot. "Thank you." 

He sat down to eat, expecting Oberyn to leave, but he didn't.

"Do you need something, my prince?"

"No." Oberyn paused. "Or rather—I don't want to disturb your meal."

"Company is no disturbance. Sit." He felt odd commanding a prince of Dorne but Oberyn didn't seem to mind in the least. 

He sat, smiling. "I hope you don't mean to disappear on us."

Davos frowned. How could he have known? 

"I haven't seen you in a few days," Oberyn clarified. "My last days aboard ship were sadly devoid of your presence, and I missed you at the feast."

"I did not think I was invited." 

"You must always consider yourself invited. Now, eat. Your food will get cold."

Davos shifted uncomfortably, but began to eat. 

"And you should not leave, if that is what you were thinking of doing," Oberyn said softly. "I fear my husband would be utterly heartbroken." 

Davos pressed his lips together. He could not help but take sides in the conflict, though he wished he did not. "His heart is no concern of mine." 

"I did not think you were so cruel." Oberyn resedt his chin on his hand. "I had actually hoped to talk with you about him. I do not know what to do with him."

"Do not antagonize him." Davos was surprised at his forthrightness, but if Oberyn wanted to know, he would be honest. "I know he can be frustrating, but he has a sweetness to him, if you let him show it."

"I think somehow he would not appreciate your lessons in the care and feeding of Stannis Baratheon." 

Davos smiled. "I know, but we do not have to tell him." 

Oberyn smiled back. "Then what other advice would you give?" 

Davos paused. He loved Stannis, but it was bittersweet to talk of him, especially when it was for the benefit of someone else's relationship with Stannis. But Stannis' happiness was paramount, and he would do all he could to ensure that. 

"He is oft dismissed by others," he said fondly. "But if you give him your time and attention, you will be amply rewarded."

Oberyn frowned. "He does not seem to want my time and attention."

"He has been hurt many times. His brother…." He paused. "I should not tell his secrets."

"It's no secret looking at them." Oberyn sighed. "I was annoyed with my brother when he betrothed me to Stannis, but I love him. I have seen how our king treats his brother." 

Davos smiled weakly. "And yet Stannis loves his brother, too. He will always serve him as well as he can out of filial devotion." 

"What does he like? How can I make him feel more at ease?" 

Davos smiled, pleased at the revelation that Oberyn did care. "Just show him you mean him no harm. Let him have some books—he is a learned man. He loves the stars, plants, rocks. He will go on forever if you let him, about where he thinks they came from and why he thinks they are there." 

"It sounds as though you have had many such conversations with him."

Davos felt himself flush at how much he'd revealed. Lords did not tell their knights about the stars; only when they were lovers and the knight was tucked in his lord's arms on a balcony at knight did they do that. "I would not call them conversations, my prince. It was mainly him talking."

Oberyn laughed. "I would like to hear his thoughts, then."

"I hope I could help you." 

"You did, very much so." Oberyn rose. "Can I help you? I will send a midwife. You will need someone to attend you. And my old nurse for when the baby comes." 

"Thank you." Davos touched his belly self-consciously and was rewarded with a kick. He was still unsure of the child's future, but he was glad it would at least be brought into the world safely. 

"It is no trouble." Oberyn bowed and kissed the back of Davos' hand. "You are dear to my husband, and so I will see you treated well."

He left, leaving Davos' heart fluttering as much as the babe he carried. 

**

Stannis' only impression of Dorne was that it was hot. He was used to oppressive humidity in the summer in the stormlands and it was high summer now, but the sun of Dorne was relentless.

 _A fitting sigil_ , he thought as he laid his new cloakpin carefully on his folded cloak. He had put it on that morning when setting out because he was used to dressing that way, but it would have to change. He pushed his sweaty hair off his forehead and surveyed the stretch of rocks that led down to the sea. He had spent hours picking his way across the coast below Sunspear, in search of interesting specimens. The coast here was different from that of Storm's End, which he knew like the back of his hand, and he had devoted hours of his life to collecting specimens there. Sunspear would at least be a new place to study. 

He wrenched a rock from where it was wedged between two boulders. Its crystalline surface sparkled in the sunlight, almost violet. Maester Cressen had showed him specimens like this but he had never found one for himself. He continued picking his way along the shore in search of more. 

He relished the ability to escape the castle. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable there—he rather liked Doran Martell, though they had spoken only a few times to each other. But he disliked the scrutiny of the court, the presence of his husband's bastards. _To which number you will add your own in a short time_ , he reminded himself. 

He realized he was gripping his hand so hard his nails were digging into his palm. He would never be happy with Oberyn. Nearly three months of sleeping together and neither of them showed any indication of being with child. Until it happened, he would have to keep sleeping with his husband. 

"Stannis!"

Stannis winced. Speak of the devil. He turned. His husband was advancing toward him, sure-footed on the rocks. 

"Oberyn." He had been trying to get used to calling his husband by his name. "I did not expect to see you out here. I have not seen you out here before."

Oberyn smiled. "I could not stand to see you out when the sun is at its highest." 

It had not escaped Stannis' notice that Oberyn wore a hat that covered the back of his neck and shaded his eyes. Stannis was hatless, and while he'd stripped to his shirt, he was covered in sweat.

"You'll burn," Oberyn added. "Do not deprive me of your lovely unblemished skin." 

"As though you think my skin is lovely," Stannis muttered.

Oberyn glowered down at him. "Have you known me to say anything I do not mean?"

Stannis paused. He had known him a short time, and while Oberyn had been often curt with him, he had never known him to lie. 

_Though we have spoken precious little_ , Stannis reminded himself. _Fucking is not speaking._

He and Oberyn had separate bedchambers, with Oberyn leaving him after they had finished the business of marriage. When Stannis woke in the morning, he often heard that Oberyn had gone out riding. With nothing else to do, Stannis had taken to exploring the lands around the castle, since he felt that he could not spend his days with Davos, nor did he want Davos to get too much sun. 

Stannis returned to where he'd left his bag and his cloak. If Oberyn was surprised that he wore the Martell cloakpin he did not say so. Stannis deposited his latest find into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. 

"You may proceed to mock me," he said. "It will not stop me studying rocks." 

"I certainly will not mock you," Oberyn said. "I studied at the Citadel, you know."

Stannis had not known. He felt a surge of jealousy. "Why are you not a maester, then?" 

Oberyn grinned. "I became bored with it. I forged a few links in my chain, but I would not be happy with that life."

Stannis glowered at him. 

"You think the experience was wasted on me." 

Stannis thought so but was reluctant to admit it out loud. 

"I would send you any time you asked. It seems unfair that those of us who are not meant for that life never get the privilege."

"They would not allow it." Stannis answered without even knowing if this was true, but it had to be. He imagined himself in the Citadel library, buried in books, being able to meet and debate with men whose words he had read. 

"They allowed me in. They had to know I would never be a full maester."

"Perhaps I will… take you up on that offer." Stannis had not known until now that one could study at the Citadel without becoming a maester. He was married, he was Lord of Dragonstone and maser of ships. He could not go to the Citadel like an unwanted extra son.

Oberyn reached out to take Stannis' cloak from him. "Here. You cannot continue to go about bareheaded." He draped Stannis' cloak about his head. The shade felt good, and he did not even feel the weight of the cloth as he'd feared. "I will get you something to wear." 

Stannis frowned, but said nothing. He was not going to complain about a gesture like this from his husband; he did not know what prompted it, but he knew he would face a lecture from Davos if he refused.

"Thank you." He looked down at Oberyn and smiled, hoping it didn't look too much like a grimace. 

**

Stannis accepted Oberyn's gift and also ceased going abroad when the sun was at its zenith. The Dornish rested during this time and Stannis had adopted their custom.

Though, to the Dornish, resting meant sleeping, and to Stannis, resting meant cataloguing his rocks. 

He was reorganizing his specimen case based on his new discoveries, trying to discover what made the rocks of Shipbreaker Bay differ from those here. Davos sat with him, cutting out cards with which he could label his specimens. 

"I thought you might be at rest when I did not see you on the shore."

Stannis jumped. Oberyn stood in the doorway, almost lounging.

"Why aren't you napping?" 

"I seldom do." Oberyn crossed the room casually. "Good afternoon, Ser Davos. Do not tell me my dear husband is keeping you from rest?" 

"I am resting," Davos answered. 

Oberyn pulled up a chair and sat. "What are you doing?" 

Stannis' first fear was that he was being mocked but decided not to assume this. Oberyn had studied at the Citadel. He knew something of Stannis' methods, even if he hadn't studied rocks and the land himself. 

"Reorganizing my collection. I label each specimen with date and location collected. Ser Davos does not have his letters, but he is making cards for me, which I will fill in when I have finished here."

"And what are you doing?" Oberyn leaned over Stannis' work. 

He had a map of the Dornish cost which he was presently making a grid on. "I am devising a scheme of recording where exactly I found each rock."

Oberyn was silent a moment. Again, Stannis braced for mockery. 

"Fascinating." 

Stannis looked up. He seemed actually to mean it. "It is, isn't it?" he said to test him. "There is variation even on this stretch of coastline. I hope through study to know why."

"It seems an enormous task." 

Stannis shrugged. "I am not at court currently. I do not need to attend to my duties as master of ships. I have the time to devote to it." 

He dipped his quill in the ink and made another line on the grid. 

"How can I be of assistance?" 

"You may copy the cards over. Let me see your hand."

Oberyn obediently copied a card and, judging his hand neat enough, Stannis allowed him to continue. 

The three worked in companionable silence, the only sounds the scratching of their quills and the sea outside. 

Oberyn was the first to speak. "I hope you don't fare poorly from your sunburn." 

"No." Stannis paused. "Thank you for sending the ointment. I have been using it. I should like to ask the maester what it is made from."

"You may ask me. I made it. It comes from the plants that grow on the cliff face."

Stannis looked up. "You climbed down there?" 

Oberyn tilted his chin up. "Are you worried?"

Stannis averted his eyes. "If you haven't the sense not to put yourself in danger for me, yes."

Oberyn kissed him. "Then I will have to put myself in further danger so as to have my husband's worry and concern." 

There was a clatter as Davos dropped his scissors. "Forgive me, my lords. I should leave you two alone." 

"No." Oberyn drew back. "I will restrain myself until my husband and I are alone." He let go of Stannis and picked his quill back up again.

**

Working together had become a near-daily occurrence. In the hottest part of the day, Stannis would retire to his rooms to work on his collection. Oberyn and Davos would soon join him. At first, he had insisted that Davos spend this time at rest, but Davos had simply declared he wasn't debilitated yet; he could help. 

As Stannis was often dissatisfied by his own organization scheme, the specimens were frequently rearranged, with many pauses while Stannis studied his maps and compared two rocks. He had started to write about them as well—there was nothing stopping a lord from publishing such a work, and Oberyn assured him when it was complete, he could see to it. That meant much work and much revision because the first work Stannis was aware of written on the nature of coastlines had to be perfect. 

This gave Oberyn and Davos time to talk, which he found he enjoyed listening to. They talked of their respective travels in the East, places they had been, people they had both known. It was calming to hear the two of them getting along. After months of this, he was, dare he say, comfortable with it. Comfortable with his husband. 

He glanced up at Oberyn, watching him as he brushed a strand of hair behind his ear. Nothing had come to fruition after these months of sleeping together; it was somewhat discouraging to think neither of them had become pregnant, even as Davos' belly grew ever larger. It would be any day now, he reminded himself. He would worry about having a legitimate child with his husband after his bastard was born. 

"Are you quite comfortable, Davos?" Oberyn asked, as though knowing what Stannis was thinking. It was hard to avoid thinking about Davos' condition. He could not sit close to the table to stick pins in the map 

"My time will be soon," he said. There was no disguising it. "I have been having contractions but the maester assures me they are too far apart to signify." 

"I will have the midwife ready to attend when the time comes." Oberyn leaned back in his chair. "There is a question I would like to ask beforehand, so that all is in the open, however." 

"Certainly," Davos said. 

"Stannis is the child's sire, is he not?"

Stannis' fingers clenched his quill unbidden, but he wasn't as angry as he might have been if the question had been asked months ago. He supposed his charade had gone on for long enough. His husband had a right to know. 

"Yes," Davos answered calmly. "We were lovers before your betrothal." 

Stannis tensed to hear it spoken of so casually, but Oberyn merely nodded. 

"Then perhaps what I am about to say will not be received poorly." He steepled his hands. "There is a custom, an old custom, practiced less so in the rest of the realm than in Dorne, but even in Dorne it is rare. When a couple finds that neither of them can bear children, they may ask the help of a third person. The children borne by this third person are considered legitimate products of the marriage. Would that be something the two of you are interested in? Davos can obviously bear children, and for Stannis and for I it remains to be seen."

This was the absolute limit. "Absolutely not." Stannis rose, dropping his quill. "I will not see Davos so shamed." 

"It is hardly—" Oberyn began, but Stannis would not hear it. He stormed from the room, only belatedly realizing that it was his own. 

**

Davos winced when Stannis slammed the door. 

"I am sorry," Oberyn said. "I did not expect him to react quite like that." 

Davos shook his head. "It is not that. He feels bad. He wishes he could give you a child." 

Oberyn pressed his lips together, looking as though he hadn't considered this. "Do you think he truly does?" 

"Yes," Davos answered without hesitation. 

"Well, it isn't as though I intend to stop trying." He moved to sit beside Davos and began to toy with his hair. "I imagine the three of us together. Not you and me, or you and Stannis, trying to make a baby. All three of us because we, dare I say it, like each other." His eyes grew serious. "Would you like that, Davos?" 

"Yes. I would." 

Oberyn let a few strands of Davos' hair slip through his fingers. "Then we need only convince my husband."

"I think you will be able to, Oberyn." 

"Then I will need something to give me strength to proceed." With that, he leaned in and kissed Davos. 

Davos kissed him back greedily, not even bothering to feel guilty about enjoying kissing Stannis' husband. In Stannis' room. 

As though able to read his mind, Oberyn pulled back. "Thank you," he said. "I feel this will give me the very initiative I need to go talk to that impossible fool we are both so fond of." 

Davos laughed. "Let me know if there is aught else I can do to help."

Oberyn kissed his forehead. "Rest. You will have enough to worry about soon enough, and I do not want to worry _myself_ about you exerting yourself." 

Davos kissed Oberyn's lips again, thinking of how very used he could get to this. 

**

Oberyn walked Davos back to his room, happy to provide an arm so that Davos could feel at ease. He could not help but kiss him again when he left him. 

"If you need anything, do not hesitate," he told Davos. "I will have your child's sire behaving rationally again by the time it is born, I promise." 

"Thank you." Davos' smile was enough to send him striding after Stannis with purpose. 

He found his husband the first place he looked—on the rocky shore. 

"A queer time to go searching for specimens," he said.

Stannis glowered at him in the lowering light. "It ought to be obvious I am not doing that." 

Oberyn climbed down to him. "I know." He extended his hand. "Come back inside. The nights are cold, you know."

Stannis frowned before taking his hand and allowing himself to be helped up to where Oberyn stood. 

"I am sorry," he said softly as they trudged their way back to the castle. "I did not mean to dismiss your idea so swiftly. I only—" 

"I am not giving up on the idea of the two of us having a child," Oberyn said. "Do not think I am replacing you. It will be the three of us."

"The three of us," Stannis murmured. 

"Aye." 

Stannis' hand slipped into his. "I understand," he said quietly. "But I do not wish to see Davos shamed." 

"And what shame would that be?" Oberyn brushed his fingertips across Stannis' jaw. "He would be linked to us, have every bit of protection we can offer him. He would bear our children, Baratheon or Martell. Why would deny your own happiness and mine own? And his."

Stannis frowned. "The court. My brother."

Oberyn brushed his hair back from his face. "Dorne is a different place."

"So I have gathered."

Oberyn kissed him. Every kiss they'd shared since their wedding had been out of obligation; this time Stannis actually seemed to mean it. There was a hunger in his kiss that promised an appetite that went beyond their nightly thrusting. 

The only thing he could reasonably do was place a hand at his husband's elbow and take him to bed. 

**

Stannis lay contentedly in Oberyn's arms, listening to the sound of the sea outside his bedchamber window. It was an incredibly calming sound, not to mention that he liked the weight of Oberyn's arm, the warmth of his skin. 

Oberyn kissed the back of his neck. "Have I told you what a marvel you are?" 

Stannis grunted. He still did not know how to respond to such pretty words, but he had to admit he didn't mind hearing them. He was about to let himself drop off to sleep when there was a knock at the door. 

Stannis scowled and burrowed into the covers, but Oberyn rose, only wrapping a thin robe about himself before going to answer the door. He had a short conversation with the servant who stood there.

"It seems Davos' child is coming," he said, when the boy had gone. 

Stannis nearly leaped out of bed and fumbled through dressing. "Oberyn, I am sorry—I—" 

"Do not be sorry." Oberyn caught him in his arms and kissed him. "It is your child. And one I hope to love as well. Let us go to him."

They found Davos' chamber packed with people—the maester of Sunspear was there, though he looked as though he'd been all but summarily dismissed by a midwife and her three assistants.

"My lords," she said sharply when she saw Stannis and Oberyn. "You are not needed here. You cannot possibly expect Ser Davos to render you some service in his present condition." 

"I do not expect him to render me any service," Stannis spat. "I merely would like to see my child born if that is acceptable to you." 

"And Ser Davos can speak for himself." Davos was on the bed, though he did not look in any particular distress. "You may certainly stay, both of you, but be aware I am nowhere near to having the child yet." He winced through a sudden contraction and Stannis rushed to his bedside, heedless of the midwife's assistant who seemed to wish to block him from the bed. 

"I'm all right." Davos did not even look up at him; he seemed to have been concentrating very hard on something. "I've been at this for some time."

"I am sorry I was not here before."

"Nonsense. You were—engaged." Stannis followed Davos' gaze to find Oberyn standing in the doorway. "Hello, Oberyn." 

Oberyn nodded to him. "I am here to offer as little or as much support as is requested."

"I would have some of your support," Davos said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "I will walk."

"Ser—" the maester at last spoke up but was stared down by the midwife who seemed glad to have Stannis and Oberyn there if they were going to be useful. 

Davos rose and took both of their arms, though he hardly seemed to need it. Stannis squeezed his hand. 

They paced the corridor outside Davos' rooms, pausing every time Davos had a contraction. Along the way, Stannis managed to elicit from him that he'd been having them since early in the evening, during the time Stannis had been walking on the coast, feeling sorry for himself. 

"I am sorry for my foolishness," he said. They had paused at the end of the corridor, as far from the watchful eyes of the midwife as he dared take Davos. "Davos, if the both of us is what you want, that is what you shall have. I was afraid for the sort of life we might have in King's Landing, but we are not in King's Landing." 

"If we do go back, we may cause quite a stir." 

"Perhaps I do not mind causing a stir." As soon as the words left his mouth, Stannis realized he had truly become a different man being married to Oberyn. Or perhaps he had merely become more comfortable with himself. 

"It is exactly what I want," Davos said. He reached up and kissed Stannis as much as his bulk allowed. Stannis kissed him back desperately; he'd forgotten how good kissing Davos was when he had thought he'd never get to do it again, and he held Davos tightly in his arms, rewarded by Davos' arms around his neck. 

Then Davos pulled back and turned to kiss Oberyn. 

That awakened something in Stannis he had not known existed. He had thought he might feel a tug of selfish jealousy to see Davos kissing his husband; he had not expected the intense surge of desire he felt. 

He did not even realize he'd made a noise until Davos glanced at him. 

"I think he likes it," he said to Oberyn slyly.. 

"Does he?" Oberyn ran his fingers through Davos' hair. "Then I suppose we are all agreed in making this attempt." 

"Yes," said Stannis, enfolding them both in his arms.

They stood like that until Davos gasped again. This time sounded greater than each of the times before and Stannis turned him at once back toward the bedchamber. He was not going to let his first child be born in a corridor.

**

Despite Stannis' haste to get him back in bed, it was not quite that soon. It was just before dawn, right when Davos thought he might not be able to continue any longer, that the midwife told him one more push was needed. It seemed to be the last push he had in him, but it was rewarded by a strong cry. 

"A son," the midwife said. 

Davos knew there was still work to do with the afterbirth, but it was an almost anticlimactic relief to know that he had birthed a child—and a son at that. He glanced at Stannis, whose eyes were shining with an eager pride that was quite becoming. 

At last, the babe was cleaned and brought back to them.

Oberyn was the first to speak. "He is your very image, husband." 

Indeed, blue eyes stared back at them from a face that seemed a smaller, more squashed version of Stannis'. 

"He cannot look like me," Stannis said quietly. "He is too perfect. And so small." 

"Babies tend to be," Davos said softly. 

Stannis reached out to touch him gently, his fingers seeming enormous as he touched the babe's thatch of dark hair. "What is he to be called?" 

"It is your son," Davos said. "What will you call your son?"

"Only if you agree…" Stannis looked at him uncertainly and then back to the baby. "Steffon. For my father." 

"I like Steffon. Steffon Sand, then?"

Stannis' mouth pressed into a line. "Perhaps that is what he ought to be, and I know he cannot be a Baratheon because you are not yet bound to us, but…" 

"What did you have in mind?" Oberyn asked. 

"I may come to view Dorne as a home, but my first home will always be the stormlands. If I have sired a bastard, I would have him be called Storm." 

Davos smiled. "Steffon Storm, then. A wonderful name." 

Stannis' smile was worth all that they had gone through. And the way Oberyn was beaming heralded the possibility of many more moments like this to come. 

**

Stannis had never marked his own name day, and he did not think Davos knew when it was. It must have been Oberyn's fault. Having the two of them conspire against him almost made him regret ever beginning this arrangement. 

He had thought nothing of it when Davos had sent him out for a walk with five-month-old Steffon strapped to him. Davos often carried the baby in this manner, and Stannis felt no shame in going about Sunspear carrying his son. 

He did not even mind the fact that this attracted the attentions of Oberyn's daughters and niece, who intimidated Stannis by their number and the volume of their questions. He supposed, though, if he was to stay here and be married to Oberyn in more but name, he would have to know them, so he answered their questions as patiently as he could, finding that he was intrigued by the fact that the youngest, Sarella, seemed chiefly to center her questions on the subject of his study of rocks. Perhaps he might have a companion on his explorations in a few years.

He knew upon returning to their apartments that a surprise would have been contrived for him. Perhaps the biggest surprise was how cozy Davos and Oberyn looked, with Davos perched on the arm of Oberyn's chair nearly in his lap, while Stannis opened his presents as Steffon watched from his cradle and the girls ate the cake Stannis did not mind foregoing.

"I do not know that this suits me," Stannis said, lifting the jeweled belt from his case. He had much preferred, if he was honest, the seastone pendant from Davos' or the other gift from Oberyn, Maester Yars' treatise on the stars. 

"Can I be blamed if I wish to cover my husband in beautiful things?" 

"You cannot believe it will make me beautiful," Stannis muttered. 

"I think you are already beautiful." 

"You cannot think that."

"I think it," Davos said. "And you are overruled for we both agree."

Stannis grunted, but he gamely modeled his gifts for his audience. Then, Davos announced that the girls must go and play and that Steffon needed to go to sleep. 

"Did you make me put this on so that you could get it off me?" Stannis asked.

Oberyn opened his mouth to say something coy, Stannis was certain, but Davos merely said, "Yes," and seized his hands.

It had been an awkward fit to make a relationship encompassing the three of them work. It had been a slow beginning, especially considering Davos had just given birth when they had decided to try it. Gradually, though, they had become more adventurous and had soon discovered that the bed in Stannis' bedchamber was more than big enough to hold three comfortably, to the point that they slept all together in it throughout the nights. 

Right now, though, it was not night, and they were not sleeping. Davos and Oberyn played a sort of joint game to undress him, and Stannis still blushed every time he felt particularly wanton, which seemed only to fuel their desires (Oberyn in particular). 

Indeed, it was Oberyn who first pinned him squirming to the mattress, kissing every part of him, paying special attention to his cock. 

"Do you know this is what I thought of first when I saw you after our bedding?" he murmured. "I wanted this in my mouth."

Stannis thought back to that first night and tried to imagine Oberyn thinking this. How far they had come since then. _How far I have come._ The Stannis of that night would never have imagined enjoying bedding his husband, nor would he have ever imagined he could have Davos again. Much less both together.

But it was all the more sweet to have both together, to slide into Davos while Oberyn's fingers teased his arsehole, to imagine taking Oberyn in his mouth later. 

Stannis lay in the middle as they huddled together after, as though the bed were not big enough for them to lie apart. 

"Was that a nice name day?" Davos asked, his head on Stannis' shoulder. 

Stannis kissed him and then Oberyn, on his other shoulder. 

"It could not have been nicer," he said.


End file.
